


How I Pray

by dreamytbh (imnotbuck)



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, M/M, kind of blasphemy??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 19:37:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5140022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotbuck/pseuds/dreamytbh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Achilles plays the lyre and Patrolcus hums because he cannot sing, but it's perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How I Pray

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](https://fuckyfarnes.tumblr.com/)

Achilles has already been walking on the beach for at least one hour by the time Patroclus awakes. He is thinking and he does most of his thinking in the olive grove or by the sea, the two places he is most comfortable when he is not within reaching distance of Patroclus. His toes are buried deep in the wet sand on the edge of the water and his curls are a tangled mess full of the smell of the sea salt and his skin glistens in the rising sunlight. 

Thetis warned him not to get too attached to a simple mortal, someone who can never understand his destiny or join him on his quest for age-old glory. There was a time when he listened to his mother's word like it was sort of divine law but that time has passed. He no longer believes that his destiny is to go down in history alone. 

"Achilles." Patroclus' voice is warm and full of simple, innocent, adoration. It makes his blood heat up and his heart thud. "You are up early." 

"And you are up late." He teases and can feel Patroclus' smile though he doesn't see it. "Did you eat something before you came down here?" 

"I brought a few things actually." Patroclus doesn't move closer and he appreciates that. The boy has always respected his tie to the sea and has allowed him to keep that to himself when he chooses to. Achilles turns around and sees how rumpled Patroclus is, his eyes squinting slightly, tunic put on messily, and his hair unruly as it always is; he is beautiful, he is his god. There is a woven bag hanging from his fingers and he can see the top of a fig peeking out. "I assumed you would want to spend most of the day here." 

"You know me well then."

"I would like to think so." Achilles walks over to him, dragging wet sand and leaving quicksand like footprints in his wake, taking his unoccupied hand. "Are you hungry?" 

"Mmm, feed me." He acts like a child most of the time because he likes it when Patroclus takes care of him. Soon he is going to have to become a man and fight in a war- he wants to make the most of his freedom. Instead of reaching for a fig Achilles uses his grip on Patroclus' hand to pull him close enough to kiss him. Their lips meet softly and before long they are breathing each other in like air. Achilles can feel the storm that is Patroclus' pulse against his chest and feels wild because of it. 

"I thought you were hungry?" Patroclus says breathily. 

"I am." Again he makes no move to get food, taking Patroclus' lips again. Patroclus drops the bag and wraps his arms around Achilles' neck, pushing their bodies closer. "I will never tire of this." He murmurs and Patroclus chuckles. 

"I should hope not!" He grins and moves back just a little. 

"What did you bring?" 

"Fresh breadrolls, figs, your lyre." Patroclus' cheeks heat and turn pink. 

"What is it?"

"I also brought the..." He looks away. "the salve." Achilles can't help but smirk; a few weeks before they had found a salve in the marketplace that claimed to be a very effective and useful lubricant. "I-I-I just thought that I should bring it in case."

"In case what, Patroclus?" The sound of the waves crashing against jagged rocks is calming but does not distract him from the situation at hand. "Tell me what you were being prepared for." 

"You can be so infuriating." But he doesn't sound angry, just thoroughly embarrassed. 

"For someone who has spent many a night inside of me, you can be very conservative." 

"Achilles!" Patroclus scolds. "You cannot just say things like that where someone could hear!" 

"I do not see anyone lurking around listening for a conversation about debauchery." 

"You are insane." 

"And you are avoiding the subject. I want you to tell me exactly what you were thinking of when you grabbed the jar." 

"No." 

"Were you thinking of taking me on the beach, possibly in the water?" Patroclus' entire face turns bright red. "Did you want to be inside of me early in the morning so I would feel the way you pulse all day?" 

"How can you say such things with a straight face?" Patroclus' voice is husky and full of lust, just the way he likes it. 

"Or maybe you were thinking of being taken from behind deep in the sand or by the rocks that line the water. Perhaps you wanted me to press you close and take you hard without mercy." 

"Do not tease me like this." 

"Which is it, my sweet?" He mouths along Patroclus' ear and makes him shiver. "Whatever you wish I can guarantee that I wish for it as well." 

"I.. I want to take you by the water." Patroclus starts. "I want to taste the salt on your skin and I want you to think of me whenever you come here because of how good it felt." He can feel his own body getting hot, the change in Patroclus' tone making him eager to be touched. 

"Where is the salve?" Patroclus reaches into his tunic and fishes it out, handing it to Achilles with a shaky hand. "Soon there will be people out and about so we must hurry." 

"And if I do not wish to hurry?"  _Gods be good._

"Then we will have to conceal ourselves." Achilles dances away from him, quick feet heading toward the water. "Follow me." He says as he takes off his tunic and drapes it across his arm. When they were younger they used to be able to undress around each other without batting any eye but now it's different. He feels the way Patroclus' eyes drink him in and he does the same whenever he sees Patroclus nude, he is about to do now. 

They walk down the beach and head toward a pile of high rocks. Achilles stops when there's a break in the rocks, a small patch of sand just big enough for the two of them to lie on. He turns and Patroclus is already removing his tunic, his fine body a gift from the heavens. His fingers itch to touch Patroclus' rough skin and he struggles to restrain himself. Patroclus walks forward and takes the jar from his hand. 

Achilles falls to his knees before Patroclus and the boy smiles down at him. Though Achilles is half divine and half mortal and Patroclus is fully mortal, Achilles always feels like he is in the presence of someone more than just human, more than a god even. He is all powerful and mighty, Achilles' greatest treasure but also his saviour. Patroclus takes Achilles' chin between two fingers and tilts his head back, anointing him and taking away the sins that he is to commit later in life. 

Patroclus kneels as well and Achilles crawls closer to the water, remaining on all fours in front of him. He sighs when Patroclus presses the first finger into him all the way to the knuckle. One is followed by another and another, three fingers moving in and out of him in a slow and teasing pace. Patroclus twists his hand and Achilles moans loudly, pushing back until Patroclus pushes another finger in. 

"Pat-ro-clus." Each syllable is punched out of him with a push of Patroclus' fingers into his prostate. "Please!" 

"For someone who has spent many a night with me inside of him, you can be very eager." Achilles lets out a cross between a laugh and a whine. "I shall tease you no longer, Achilles." The way he says his name is sinful and perfect. Patroclus slides into him easily and they both gasp at the sensation. They stay completely still for a few minutes, the water washing over his hands and making him tremble. 

"Make love to me." He begs and Patroclus does. Each thrust rocks him forward and makes his heart leap. It's so right, so good, so perfect, and they both know it. How they spent so much of their time together not simply indulging in each other is a mystery to him now. 

"Achilles!" Patroclus cries and his grip on his hips tightens almost to the point of pain but Achilles doesn't mind. He wants everything that Patroclus can possibly offer and even if it includes pain, that is what he will have. "Achilles, aristos achaion, you are- you are everything." 

"Oh Patroclus." He groans and allows himself to be submerged in the ocean that is Patroclus' love. "I. Love you. So much." Patroclus pulses inside of him and he throws his head back, an animalistic noise escaping him. He is sure that someone must've heard them by now but he doesn't care anymore. All he cares about is the fact that Patroclus is his and always will be. 

Patroclus pulls out of him and flips him over, arm coming out to cushion his head. Patroclus kisses him and plunges back into his body smoothly. It's the intimacy that they both crave and he will truly never tire of it. He grabs Patroclus' hips and helps him move back and forth in an even rhythm that stimulates them both. He knows that somewhere in the sea his mother's hatred of Patroclus is growing and so is her disapproval of their actions but he has recently started trying to let go of the things that he can't control. 

Their mouths are insistent and their kisses turn into wet moans that flow back and forth between the two of them. Achilles works his hips in the same motions that Patroclus is making and heat flows through him, a slow trickle that starts in the pit of his stomach and rises up and up until his skin is on fire. "Patroclus." He moans. "Just a little more." 

"I know." They work themselves up until they're on the verge of floating away. Patroclus comes inside of him and then pumps Achilles to release. 

Later that day when the sun is lower in the sky, the two of them sit in their new favourite spot, Patroclus' head in Achilles' lap. Achilles plays the lyre and Patrolcus hums because he cannot sing, but it's perfect. Soon things will not be so perfect but he knows that they will be able to get through it because of what they share. 

"I love you." Patroclus murmurs when he's finished humming. Achilles smiles brighter than the sun and puts his lyre down, opting to play with Patroclus' hair instead. Patroclus' nose wrinkles and Achilles giggles like a child. 

"I loved you first."


End file.
